A Gray Spot for Her Majesty
by The Yardville Girl
Summary: This story is dedicated to those who perished in the sinking of Titanic in memorial of the 93rd anniversary. This is one of the stories that includes the facts of the sinking; from the ship's point of view. April 10, 1912...
1. Default Chapter

**A Gray Spot for Her Majesty**

**Disclaimer/Author's Note: **Unfortunately, I have never had ownership of the White Star Line or related to anything remotely similar to it. I am not a descendant of one of these people sadly; so I will never know the real truth. All I can give you is the facts I have found and a brief glimpse of the Titanic's thoughts as she sailed her first and last trip.

* * *

**Wednesday**

**April 10, 1912**

**12: 00 PM**

**Southampton, England**

In all of the world, nothing had been so marvelous. A Ship of Dreams, the Unsinkable, the Irish Rock…so many names for one so big a ship.

_Titanic_…

Thousands of people gathered at her pier just to see her splendor and beauty; awed at the sheer magnificence and strength she stood for. Yes, she represented them all. Built by those who were weak, homeless, starving, and most of all, ill fated; their strength and spirits were poured into her walls, her beams, her rooms; everything had been theirs and at last she had been completed. Their hope of crossing over into the new world had been built at last. So many things she had stood for; Freedom, Hope, Dreams, Love, Liberty, and above all else, her everlasting Spirit. Everything was golden; no black or gray or white.

She was the guardian of her passengers; the mother of souls about to embark on their first journey, and the pacifier of man and the sea. She was grand in all ways; the light of the sun shining on her in blessing as the yells, screams, and whispered goodbyes were uttered by her side. The newly appointed officers and crew welcoming the people with smiles and open arms. The sheets, dishes, china, furniture beckoning to them with the knowledge and encouragement of dreams, memories, and adventures. She gleamed pure with the white, mysterious with the black; and chuckled giddily with her red and black stacks of charcoal steam. The paint was fresh, the places set; everything was ready.

Frantic waving of arms and hands, fingers strumming the air as the rich class, the middle class, and the poor all boarded her with deep admiration and promises to fulfill their lives to their utmost potential. Taking everything they owned, they walked onward and proceeded to run to the top deck; "A" deck and bid their farewells to the world they had known.

The captain had smiled at them, beaming with pride at the expectations of the ship and its people; his first captain standing by him as he glanced at his captain with the same kind of emotions too. Timeless was this moment; forever in their grasp. Photos and articles published around the clock; stories being told already as to how the ship would function. Relics without meaning coming into shape.

The air was electric with excitement and passion, the sky full of blooming white clouds and sunshine gleaming through each crack and peak of the lofty shapes; the sea sparkling deep and green with streaks of blue shining in the bay. There were no tears; only smiles and hearts full of something so profound it was unreal; adrenaline pumping through each and every one of them as they continued to shout and move vigorously.

Slowly, the ship was brought out of the bay on gentle waves; a tug boat with massive ropes dragging her out to the channel a few miles away from the port. From there, the engines were slowly brought to life for the first time, moving the Titanic out of range and out of sight as she sailed on towards her destination. Slowly, the crowds watched as the ship became only a mere dot on the now open sea. However, the people left and the crowds dissipated as the Titanic was now lost to them; never to come home.

Later that evening, the great ship stopped at Cherbourg, France; coming for the last batch of passengers that were to sail across the icy Atlantic and on towards New York City, America. Familiar faces and emotions were combined into one as people bid their farewells. The pride in Titanic had not stopped. Everywhere, her tail was told. The largest man-made, moving vessel this world had seen; the highest of high. She left once more and headed out to sea; her beckoning was ringing in all their ears.

Her last stop had been Queenstown, Ireland; the loving land where she had come from. Picking up more passengers there, the families also waving at their priceless work of construction and dedication. Once more, she drifted out of the bay by force and was sent on her way to another destination. Setting sail at last for her first real maiden adventure; the Titanic was had made it to the Atlantic by **Thursday;** **April 11, 1912** at **1: 30 PM** in the afternoon.

Traveling only at 22 knots, the great ship was loved by all and adored by those who kept up with Titanic's adventures. An endless blue lay at her finger tips; the sparkling depth of the icy waters welcoming her with open arms. The mother ocean was a loving mother; cruel with punishment and yet fair in judgment. She too, marveled at man's great strength and imagination; inventing a ship that brought luxury and comfort as well as speed and adversity.

Equipped with powerful instruments, skillful tools for use, and enough manpower for an entire army; the ship was truly the greatest marvel that had ever existed.

The weather had been fair; the sun shining every day, the clouds billowing as the wind blew sea, birds, flags, hats, and masses of colorful hair of men, women, and children as they stood on her decks, watching as the sea went by them in mere minutes; their excitement bubbling in them that was equivalent to that of the most joyful batch of children in the world.

However, it would not end that way…

On **Sunday**; **April 14, 1912**; the fifth day at sea, the captain received five messages from a nearby ship about icebergs that were floating in the area. Ignoring the pleas, the captain sailed on; all the knowledge he had gained was gone in a matter of seconds as the pressure from Mr. Ismay; the director in charge of the White Star Line to come to a speed more faster as to surprise the people of New York by arriving there a day ahead of schedule. Whatever the reason; it was time for one of man's greatest monuments to finally meet its end.

Between **11:20** and **11: 40 PM**, an iceberg was spotted by a look out in the crow's nest of the Titanic, phoning immediately to the captain of the approaching danger. The wireless operator of the Titanic, unfortunately; had not received the message before hand by any of the other nearby ships about the iceberg. The sea was unusually calm; no ripples or movements indicating that the iceberg had been floating at all. A trap set for the innocent maiden as she made her way straight for the block of ice.

The crew and officers had tried to put the engines in reverse so as to steer the ship away from the icy block that threatened to destroy her dreams. There were only thirty seven seconds left to warn them all. However, they were too late…

The bow of the Titanic hit the iceberg dead on, creating dents in the side as water began to splash in; making the gap become bigger as the Titanic sailed away from the berg; water spilling into the five compartments in just minutes. The pain washed into her; gutting her whole and leaving no room spare. Above on board, people had come out to see the commotion. Ice from the fallen pieces of the iceberg landed on the deck and people began to kick them around; sliding it across the deck, playing a sort of "ice-soccer". They never knew…

Soon, Mr. Andrews; the chief designer of Titanic, became informed of the collision and set out to talk with the captain about the damage. With the five compartments filled with water at the bottom of the Titanic; it was only a matter of time before she began to sink. He informed the captain that they only had an hour, maybe two at the most. He never saw land again. Around **12:05 AM** on **Monday**;** April 15, 1912**; the captain ordered that the lifeboats be uncovered. However, there were only 32 lifeboats on board; the White Star Line had not backed the order of there being more lifeboats on the Titanic and had thought the ship's decks would be too cluttered.

Only half the lives on Titanic would be saved…

At **12:10 AM**, a distress signal was sent out to the Olympic, the Frankfurt, and the Carpathia. The Carpathia was the closest to the Titanic, 58 miles away from it. The last message was sent at **1: 45 AM** **_"Engine room full up to boilers"_**. At **2:05 AM**, the wireless operators were released. It was not enough…

**12:25 AM;** the Order was given to put "women and children" into lifeboats were given out to all passengers. Frightened mothers, daughters, wives, sisters, aunts, cousins, and grandmothers were given over to the officers. Crying, screaming, yelling, calling out names; reaching with fingers, hands, arms, emotions, hearts for the ones they loved. The men they knew they were leaving behind called out to them, tearing at them with tearful goodbyes, their heartfelt touches, their lingering words. Echoing, pulsing throughout each one. The Titanic wept with them for their goodbyes and separation; for she too was saying goodbye.

**12:45 AM;** The first lifeboat, No. 7 was first to be lowered into the icy ocean as people screamed and ran; fear coursing through them as their ship of dreams suddenly became a ship of nightmares. People were shot at, trying to be kept in lines as panic drove them over the edge; life itself seeping away from them. The ship felt the hundreds of footsteps running over her decks; terror laced through each step that hit the remaining ground of her deck. She had tried to be strong for them, lead them to the new world they had dreamed so hard about. But now; now, there was no hope, no endless dream that could save them…she cried out.

**12:55 AM; **First rockets were fired, sending flares into the air. They sparkling shine sent into the black abyss of the sky as the stars looked on silently, dimming as if to shy away from the proverbial deaths that were about to happen in only a matter of time. The water reflected the blackness of the sky, icy blue swirling in its depths at the promise of freezing cold and endless suffering. But, there was only more screaming, more fear, more panic, more suffocation; more steps taken towards death. The last rockets were fired at** 1: 40 AM.**

**From 12: 25 AM to 2:20 AM;** Lifeboats were continually sent out, however; it would only cause more grief in the end…She never stopped weeping.

**At the dreadful hour of 2:20 AM on Monday; April 15, 1912;** the Titanic sank beneath the waves. The water had spilled "back and back, over each deck" until it was flooded. The water had crept slowly into each hall and room; as if slowly tracking its prey. Then, when the pressure had become unbearable; the water gushed forth and destroyed everything in site; it had claimed its reward, the Titanic.

Those who were not able to get on lifeboats were left in the water; freezing to death from the unbearable conditions and hypothermic sickness. They had tried to seize lifeboats, trying to turn them over or gain entry but all was in vain. Screams echoing in the night of the pain, anguish, torment, and suffering as people were crushed either by the sinking of the ship or by each other. Their deaths slow and agonizing as they called out to each other, to loved ones they would never see again, to their God to save them and spare them. They waited for the one thing that would never come; absolution.

People who had not been able to get onto a boat or did not want to die by plunging into the water went back into their rooms and waited for the icy water to come to them. Mothers telling stories to their children, married couples staying together, family members huddling, friends talking; all together for the last time. Clothes, furniture, suitcases, luggage, dolls, pictures, portraits; everything that was theirs was destroyed and preserved…never to be awoken until decades later…

The captain had stayed on board; the early retirement never coming for him as he went down with the ship, welcoming the sea and never leaving her as a true sailor should…To the sea he had gone, hearing her beckon him once more just as she had called him all those years ago when he had been young. Locking himself in the room that contained the helm of the once mighty ship, he waited to have his last conversation with the sea. Afterwards, the captain could only watch and feel as the windows crashed in around him and frigid, blue water surrounded him; still standing by the helm as the sea took her faithful sailor with her.

The Titanic had been split down at the keel of the ship, wailing as the terror ripped through the people; the sound of it like thunder rolling into the ears of those who remained behind. After it broke away, the keel stayed a float in the water for a few moments until it sank as well…The wreckage of the ship landing a half a mile away from where it had struck the berg.

Bodies floated in the water, never again to feel pain. The numbing sensation spreading through them before they fell into absolute oblivion. Blue with ice as the sea took them and let their bodies swirl down gently to an empty grave; pale, ghostly, empty eyes staring forever up at the sky, looking for something or someone to save them…

**705 people** were picked up by Carpathia by **8:30 AM on Monday; April 15, 1912 **and were brought to New York City Harbor on **Thursday; April 18, 1912.**

At the beginning, there had been **2, 220 people** on board the Titanic; despite the fact that the ship could've held more passengers.** 1,523** had been left behind in the freezing Atlantic; left to drown in their own deaths.

After arriving in the harbor; the press was all over the story of the great maritime tragedy. Family members, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles; crying, yelling, screaming, reaching out for the ones they had lost…never to come home to them. Although, the story of Titanic has been told around the world; the only true story will be known by those who survived and experienced the whole sinking itself.

Nature…has a way of putting man back in its place; demonstrating to them time after time that they will never be the true masters of the world. Though while cruel in this act; the sea was only acting upon this vow. The Titanic was man's greatest accomplishment in that era; making them the top of all other beings. Their dreaming and strength poured into the vessel that had sailed triumphantly at first and then ending in tragedy. The sea, in the end, hadn't been cruel; but merely righteous in seeking that it prove once more who was truly the supreme best in the world. The people on board the Titanic had thought themselves to be invincible, convinced that they would be safe on board the luxury liner. Though they had been cocky and careless with their ways; their deaths were not necessary. However, the sea is not merciless when she is taunted and will not rest easily in the souls of those whom she hungers and calls for.

* * *

For those who perished, I dedicate this poem to you… 

**The Sea and Her Ways**

Bluer than sapphires and deepest of eyes;

Many of fortune and race were of her cost

Grey like her foes and small like of her spies,

Mistress of cruelty and mother of lost.

Dormant by time and lost without a find;

Treasures more precious than life are gold

To many she is deaf whilst to me is kind,

Stories of legends were of countless bold.

White foam blooms and flows like blood through my veins;

As she takes with her works of wood and craft

Stabs the wounds and causes much of old pains,

Silver clouds billow as winds of old draft.

My treasure love for her remains my true

Which is why I'll always answer to blue.

* * *

For those who died, may you rest knowing your stories have been passed on; your legends told, and your identities forever known. I am truly sorry that you experienced such terror and anguish, pain taking over you as you went down. But now, you rest in the place where you have found peace. May you remain in God's good graces, forever watchful of those who are lost at sea like you once were. 

I was touched deeply by this tale when I was a little girl. Later on in my life, I had not come to terms to how much it would mean to me. It now holds a special place in my heart; forever holding the pain and joy that it had once gave. My love for Titanic is wide and deep, like the icy depths it now sits in. It exists now as a part in my soul; I don't necessarily know if I had in some way; had a past life on that ship some how but I know it has changed me forever. I now wish to live by the sea when I am older; hoping to one day travel to the places it had docked in and perhaps, if I am so fortunate sometime before I die; I would love very much to visit the site as to where it sank. I now, live only in the hopes and waiting to see her if only once.

Though the story of Titanic continues to grow and spread to every generation; there will be places in the hearts of those who are truly touched by all this ship represented and destroyed.

And though the sea is still deep and blue; there will always be a gray spot in her where the Titanic now lies…

* * *

To some, I know this doesn't seem like much of a story. For many, they already know these facts…but for me, it has a deeper meaning. Today is the 93rd anniversary of Titanic's sinking; in about 7 years, it'll have been a full century since it last saw daylight. For the few here on this website that are true fans and historians of Titanic, I hope this factual story is to your liking… 

Later Peeps!

P.S. This fic was actually updated on April 14, 2005 at 11:40 PM (Eastern Time) in memorial of the time and date of the Titanic's encounter with the iceberg that led her to her doom.


	2. Chapter 2

My Heart Will Go On

"_It is a quiet and peaceful place - and a fitting place for the remains of this greatest of sea tragedies to rest.__"_ -**Robert D. Ballard**

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April 14, 1912

Pink, orange, and gold rays reflected off of the waxed floors of the upper deck of Titanic. The ship was at a decent speed and the sea was a vast exploration before them. However, they were only going one way and were never returning.

The people aboard didn't mind. They were at peace. The breeze ruffling through their hair and clothes. The cry of the gulls above them and the loud sound of mass amounts of water being separated below them. Yes, it was truly a quiet moment.

Children yelled and screamed as they chased each other and the adults talked animatedly, scolding the younglings every once in a while. Young men walked with that of their generation or perhaps older and talked about economics, the corruption of government, and how well their favorite sports and teams were fairing. The women walked around the deck as well, twirling their parcels and exclaiming with their hands about the affairs, gossip, new fashions, and love lives of all those they had known.

Now their ghosts remain that way forever...doing what they thought would never end.

* * *

Today:

The small submarine creaked and squealed from the tons of pressure that surrounded it. The scientists in it studied the large wreckage that was 20 yards away from them and pointed to scans and charts that the computers picked up.

Recently, they had made a new discovery. The entire hull of the Titanic had come apart during the sinking of the (once) world's largest cruise liner and had fallen to another place that was 50 yards away from the original discovery of the wreckage of Titanic. They were now piecing it together and watched with avid interest as computer graphics brought to life the truth behind the sinking.

Voices, music, and cries from gulls never reached their senses.

* * *

It can never be said exactly how many times people have written plays, books, music, and movies about the sinking of Titanic.

No one will ever be able to piece together what exactly it felt like for all those people to just…wait and wait for something that inevitably comes for all us at the very end of our tethers.

* * *

In 6 years, 72 months, 312 weeks, 2,190 days, 367,920 hours, 22,075,200 minutes, and 1,324,512,000 seconds...

it will have been one full century since the Titanic sank.

On April 14, 1912, she sank down into her watery grave, taking with her hundreds of people and leaving behind the devastation of one lifetime.

"1,500 people went into the sea when Titanic sank from under us. Six were saved from the water, myself included. Six...out of 1,500.

Afterward, the seven hundred people in the boats had nothing to do but wait...wait to die, wait to live, wait for an absolution that would never come."

Today, we are losing her.

She is slowly being swallowed up by time and shortly, there will be nothing left of her but one large dark spot on certain part of the ocean's floor.

Ever since I was a little girl, I have always loved the Titanic. I first heard of it in the second grade but then the movie came out when I was in the third grade. I saw it and it has touched every part of my heart...knowing that something like that story could have occurred on the Titanic but the couple could have in fact died.

No one knows what those people were like, how they lived, what they loved, who they loved; when they were happy, sad, mad, upset, laughing, in tears, how they ached, how they needed, how they breathed, how they woke up, how they went to sleep, or when they were scared; all we know is how they died. Tragically.

Now, all we have is 1,500 ghosts…wandering in one grave and forever unknown to the peace that they could have. Forever tormented in a cold, watery grave.

Each year, until the full century, I plan to update it on this particular day.

The sea has always been a part of my soul and I feel it in my heart with each beat. I feel the absolute pain of Titanic as it felt the fear and terror of the people she had promised to look out for. I feel the endless sorrow and remain forever bound to the promise of Titanic...

"Never let go."

* * *

Every night I ask one thing of God…

That my first daughter be born on April 14th, late at night…and that she will be healthy and alive…so that I can name my first daughter Josephine.

* * *

Well, here's my second chapter.

For memorial of today: the 94th anniversary.

I can't believe in six years from now it will be a full century. It makes me wonder what will happen that particular day.

I know this is shorter than the previous chapter but as I said, I do plan to update each year until the full century is complete.

May the souls of those people who died on Titanic be remembered today and tonight. May they know we are thinking of them and that their descendents keep them in mind today.

May Titanic be remembered…even when all that's left is a gray spot on the ocean's floor.

Later Peeps!


	3. One Century Later

A Gray Spot for Her Majesty

Disclaimer: I make no claims to the White Star Line, Titanic, or any other places, objects, or persons that may be mentioned in this chapter.

* * *

Go two-and-half miles down and there is nothing but tons of pressure at every square inch and total blackness in the ocean's depths. The water is so thick and deep that not even sunlight can penetrate that far down. There is nothing to light the way but the small bright lights of the submersibles that whir and swim along the bottom of the sea. They are the only lights Titanic has seen since the night it sank a hundred years ago. Suddenly, looming overhead is the bow of the ship itself, decorated with icicles of rust and mounds of dirt. It is the first thing seen by the man-made lights, for never again will the ship rise to see daylight or the expanse of night sky. For in a single night, the ship that was thought to be Unsinkable was proven to be fallible.

On that night, there was no moon, and the stars appeared brighter only because of the ice crystals in the air. What could have been seen a half-an-hour away was seen only in in half a minute and could not have been avoided, even if they had collided head-on. All in part because of human faults, but mostly, because the doom-fated ship had entered into a valley of death upon the sea. The swift, freezing Labrador Current brought with it broken of pieces of ice from Greenland that had been around since the day the ice age firmly began and changed the climate of this planet forever.

Most of the 2,200 souls on board were ignorant, except for perhaps the members of the crew who knew of the ice-warnings and also those who recorded the fluctuating temperature changes. While it is no secret that pushing the ship to 22 knots was not so ideal, especially with the Labrador Current flooding down into the Atlantic, nothing could've prevented the death of Titanic that night.

In essence, though it is heartbreaking to think about or even acknowledge, the cruise ship called R.M.S. Titanic of the White Star Line was meant to sink that night so long ago.

As mere mortals, we are always trying to find our way into being amongst the stars, or even into being stars ourselves; in being like gods. We find that we strive always to push ourselves with the one way we can succeed as well as any set of divine powers: technology. And it is no lie that the Titanic at the time was the pinnacle of steam technology along with being the most luxurious ship the world had ever seen. But with all of its power and might, with all of its sleekness and comfort, it could not have been saved. The ship had been designed so that if the first four compartments of the water-tight bulkheads of the ship had been filled with water, it would've stayed afloat. Even if only two of the compartments in any other part of the ship had been filled with water, it would've stayed afloat. But that night, after grazing an iceberg that tore into its side, and also tore open the bottom due to the shelf of ice underneath the water, six compartments filled with water and signed away on the death certificate of Titanic.

It is also true that more people could've been saved, even with the lack of lifeboats that were not made available to save the rest of the passengers onboard. 70-72 men were able to fit in each of the twenty life boats, which could've easily stowed a thousand lives a safe distance away from the soon-to-be wreck. But with the panic, the terror, the heartbreaking reality for each man, woman, and child, only a little over 700 were saved while 1,517 perished with the sinking of the ship and the hypothermia that set in less than a half-hour after being in the water. The thrashing and swimming only increased the freezing cold to sooner corrupt the core body temperature of each helpless individual, but they did not understand.

The only sought to live. They only wanted to be saved from the fate they knew deep down they could not escape. Their screams echo forevermore in the endless dark of the ocean. Their grave acting only as a time-capsule into a period of time that seems just as ghost-like as the ruined ship itself.

Personally, I can understand why Captain E.J. Smith would step quietly into the bridge of the ship and willingly go down with his vessel. With so many lives to be responsible for, knowing that only so many were going to live out of all of the passengers, and very well feeling the weight of the guilt upon his shoulders, it is no wonder why the chilled waters seemed so welcoming for such a crippled-soul.

With this night being the hundredth anniversary the ship last saw daylight, it can only be affirmed that their lives are finally received by the people that exist on this planet.

When James Cameron first pitched the idea of the movie to the board of producers, he only said two things:

"This ship. Romeo and Juliet."

Regardless to say, it is no wonder after seeing Leonardo DiCaprio in Baz Luhrman's production of Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet as to why he was picked for the character of Jack Dawson (which, surprisingly enough, there was a man named J. Dawson who had died with the sinking of the ship, but his name was not Jack). Having Kate Winslet play Rose DeWitt-Bukater, a.k.a the Juliet character, was of course a good judgment call by the casting directors for the movie. Many of the facts that seemed right at the time, when the movie was being made, have later on been disproved by James Cameron himself, but changing so much in the movie would be too tiresome and a wasting of too much money.

For many of us, who were growing up when this movie came out, this was the way we were first introduced to Titanic. Of course the love-story was what many became obsessed with and how the star-crossed lovers (spoilers!) were torn apart only after having found each other aboard the ship. I, myself, was also swept away by the love that seemed to live on despite the fact that one soul-mate had died and the other had promised to live a full-life in the wake of the tragedy. However, I found myself feeling something that burned more than a twelve year-old girl's foolish dreams of enduring romance. I actually viewed it when my father brought it home as a video rental from Blockbuster those few months after leaving theaters; I was in third grade at the time. And as a child, the love-story didn't reach inside of me: rather, it was the ship itself.

I found myself drawing her all the time, keeping the dates of April 14th and 15th forever ingrained, and watching the movie every year on both days since then. I wanted to learn more about the ship, more about the times, more about the people who built her, crewed her, and piloted her. I wanted to understand the people who boarded her and put so many of their hopes and dreams into the hands of Titanic herself.

However, feelings I cannot explain well up inside of me each time the opening credits begin. This year they've been even stronger. While watching the documentary that James Cameron did in order to put the mystery of Titanic's sinking forever to rest, I found myself experiencing physical reactions to the ship that I had only felt lightly and never as intense whenever I had waited for the anniversary to reappear on the calendar. I couldn't catch my breath while watching them explain how the ship had split in half – and when I did catch it, I found myself holding it in unconsciously. I started to cry and shake, my heart was pounding, and an overwhelming feeling of_ being there_ filled me to the brim.

Tonight, as I sit here on my laptop writing this to commemorate the full century it has been since the ship sank, I am watching the movie and I find myself crying for a reasons I can't think of and experiencing feelings I can't understand. I can only hear the thoughts that come to me, unbidden from some part of my brain that remains hidden from me.

"_Leave us alone,_" the voice cries, "_Look at what they have done to my ship. I have been here. This is our grave_."

Of course many cases of reincarnation have been spilled out by people across the globe who have also felt connections to the ship. There is no way to prove that any of these cases are true, though many agree to past-life regression therapy. I don't know if I am a reincarnation of someone who was on Titanic or someone who had some sort of connection to the ship. While some can claim that they can remember past lives when they were children, for the rest of us, it is harder. My mother suspects it is because we either experience something traumatic or simply because the life we lived before held no real impact on us spiritually. I've had dreams about the ship itself and wanting to prevent it from setting out on its disaster-prone course. I've even had dreams that seem like memories but I am unable to differentiate (or prove) whether they were really memories or just dreams.

I have no fear of water – except of course of drowning or being eaten by a shark. I have no fear of heights, except when plunging down ninety-feet at eighty miles-an-hour on a rollercoaster. I'm not a fan of ice or the cold, but honestly, who likes to feel frozen all the time during winter (even if they are a fan of the season)? I could go on and on forever about this, but I feel that it digresses too much.

Do I believe in reincarnation? Yes. Whole-heartedly. I feel that each of us has a set of lessons to learn in each life that one simply cannot learn in one life alone. There would be too much strife, suffering, and unrelenting horror that would leave a soul empty. But that is not the point of this essay.

Nor are my feelings of connection to the ship, be they real or fitted-in because of some misguided subconscious memories. None of that is really relevant – though it does break the ice.

No, my point is simple enough, and ironically enough, it is even displayed with the first forty-minutes of the film.

The theme of this written piece is to prove that connections can transcend time, space, and even the physical world. We all know (those that seek the ship out more than the romance of the movie and even those who seek to read this incredibly long-winded entry) that feelings have the ability to transcend words and thoughts. Those who feel touched by the story or even remotely sad acknowledge this one truth: the human heart, nay, the soul, transcends all elevations, overcomes every descent, and obliterates limits or barriers that would otherwise enclose it in a single thought of motioning forward. Though the past should always remain the past, it is learning from it and even recognizing it that allows us to evolve.

Being that Titanic is part of the past, none of us can really know what it was like for the people to be on board that ship – and not just during the sinking. Oh, there are stories that run around based on written accounts, reports, and journal entries of what it was like in some capacities and who some of the people were – especially for those who were first class passengers. But none of us can say for certain whether or not there may have in fact been a romance like Jack and Rose's on board the ship for those few short days. There may have been fights and disputes between family members and friends. It can be stated, however, that for those were leaving behind their homes to immigrate to a new land, longing was ever present, along with nostalgia. But there was happiness and laughter, joy and tears. There were parties, dinners, lunches, breakfasts, masses, and arenas for games all on-board this ship. And then, in the span of two hours and forty-minutes, it was gone beneath the waves forever.

The world may have gone on turning, but nothing was ever the same. The Edwardian period was quickly overtaken by the looming future that the twenties brought in, along with the shadows of war that loomed at the edges of each new decade since 1912. The world then was a different place, and though it was ruled primarily by class, it was a simpler time. Where true hard work was labor intense, even by the cruelest means, and left men more satisfied and bone tired than those who work under today's means of instant gratification by means of the internet. The rich…well, from what is seen on dramas on television or written about in books, they still have their dramas, their woes, and petty games (though they seem more charitable these days).

But for whatever reasons there may have been during everyday life, once it was made clear that status and money would not save, class became a primitive means of life. Then, and only then, were the careful and controlled layers peeled back to allow the basic instinct for survival to take hold. But it was not enough for those whose names were already engraved on the grim reaper's list. Though unfair and merciless, history cannot be changed, and so what had once been a luxury liner is now, and forevermore, an unlit lonely grave.

And no matter as to _why_ I feel this strange connection to a vessel and story that is older than me by seventy-seven years, I will never attempt to sway myself otherwise (or allow others to do so). I know there are many out there who feel the same and I thank those who would make me feel welcome.

When my time comes in this life, I hope that I am an old woman who has lived her life and seen all of her dreams come true. I hope that I am able to die looking out over the sea and knowing that it won't be long until I begin a new journey. I hope that my soul, before passing into the next plane, will venture down to the depths, much like Rose's, and find Titanic welcoming me as well.

So tonight, I say thanks for reading this; I say a prayer for those who lived and those who died this night a century ago. And though we are losing the ship to time and the ocean, her story and her name will live on forever – and that too is my prayer.

Rest in Peace, R.M.S. Titanic – you are not forgotten, and never will you be lost to time, for you are in the hearts of many.


End file.
